


Bright Lights

by starlight_and_seafire



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Graduate Students, Modern AU, Smut, diner au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:33:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24429535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlight_and_seafire/pseuds/starlight_and_seafire
Summary: On a dreary, overcast evening, the bright neon lights of a local diner catch Poe’s eye. It’s been a long day on campus for the former-veteran and newly-minted graduate student, and he’s thinking he might grab a bite to eat.Although the sign reads Dex’s Diner, he discovers that the owner is actually a fiercely intelligent and beautiful young woman named Rey, who is also a student at the local university.In the end, he finds much more than a decent meal and a lively study partner at the local diner.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Rey
Comments: 96
Kudos: 111





	1. Chapter 1

The worst of the day is done.

Well, he’s still got to finish lugging his stuff back to his slightly older, slightly beat up apartment three more blocks down the road, because he missed his bus after staying at the campus library too late. Plus, it’s a dreary, overcast evening, and he left his car back at his dad’s ranch cause who needs a car in the city . . .

Well, at least he saved money by missing the bus.

The laptop and books and his new fancy pen (okay, he’s a nerd, and the pen _was_ really cool, and he honestly just couldn’t help himself while he was at the bookstore earlier), not to mention the cost of tuition itself, took a hefty chunk out of his bank account earlier this semester.

But in the end, he’s just happy that he’s back in school working on his master’s degree in public policy. After an honorable discharge from the military after a combat injury left him unable to fly, he’s eager to start learning how to put his skills to good use, maybe go to work for Senator Organa after finishing his degree.

But first . . .

Two more blocks.

And maybe he’s a little out of shape now, and his old knee injury is aching something fierce, but to be fair, his bookbag is _really_ heavy.

Then he spies a neon sign just a few doors down.

_Dex’s Diner_.

He knows that Bee had been walked earlier that afternoon, so he doesn’t need to get back home immediately. So maybe some dinner couldn’t hurt. He did save money by missing the bus after all.

(He doesn’t let himself think too much about the price difference between the bus and dinner. He absolutely refuses. He’ll deal with the consequences later. He’s hungry _now_.)

The bell above the door dings as he opens it and he looks around the cozy diner. There’s a series of booths lining the walls, all a little run down (and he can’t complain really, it’s not as run down as his apartment), an old fashioned jukebox on one side, and some stranger in the corner sipping at his coffee as he reads a paperback.

It’s charming really.

A pretty, petite girl comes around the corner of the counter with a coffee pot in her hand and she calls out to him, “Sit wherever you’d like, I’ll be right with you,” as she fills up the other man’s mug.

He settles himself in at the counter, placing his bookbag down at his feet before grabbing a menu. _Dex’s Diner_ is emblazoned on the menu and on top of the specials board just off to the side of the window into the kitchen where a blonde-haired man in an apron sits perusing his iPad.

He scans the menu for a brief moment before the waitress walks over to him, once more behind the counter.

“Made up your mind?”

Poe bites his lip. Now that he’s stopped moving for two seconds, he realizes how hungry he is and honestly, it all looks good.

“First time here?” she asks when he tells her he can’t quite decide.

At his nod, she — Rose, according to her nametag — grins. “Figures. I know all our regulars. How about a cheeseburger? You can always tell how good a place is by their cheeseburgers.”

His stomach growls and that’s enough of a confirmation for him. “Sounds good.”

Rose walks over to the window and calls out “Hey, Beau! Two cheeseburgers, all the fixings,” and Poe sees the blonde man set to work.

When Rose returns to the spot in front of him, he can’t help but ask, “Two?”

“Yeah, it’s Rey’s usual order. She usually gets here around this time. So, what brings you in?”

She’s cheerful and pleasant to talk to, so he chats with her until Beau places two cheeseburgers in the window. As she hands one of the plates to him (the one that only has a normal side of fries, and not the one with the heaping pile), he can’t help but ask, with a nod to the emblazoned sign nearby, “So, who’s this Dex?”

The bell above the door dings, and his years in the military ensures that he turns to look at the new arrival . . .

And his jaw drops to the floor as he sees the most stunning woman he’s ever seen in his life. She’s tall and lithe, clad in jeans and a university t-shirt, her brown hair done up in a bun. She also has the most glorious smile as she calls out a hello to Rose and Beau, and even to the gentlemen in the corner who he learns is called Klaud, as she walks behind the counter and into what appears to be an office with her own bookbag in tow.

“That’s Dex,” Rose says cheerfully.

Poe’s brow furrows in confusion. He wasn’t expecting _her_ to be named Dex.

“She’s messing with you,” the absolutely gorgeous woman teases as she comes back out minus the bookbag. “Dex used to own this place, and I took over for him.” She grabs the other cheeseburger from the window and bumps shoulders with Rose as the two exchange a smile. “Though Rose clearly runs this place. I’m Rey. And you’re new.”

In a more perfect world, he would introduce himself and say something witty, but he’s still so dazzled by her, especially now that he can hear her soft British lift, see the dusting of freckles across her nose and the way her brow furrows in confusion . . .

Cause apparently he’s forgotten how to speak. “Uhhh . . . yeah, new. I’m new. Poe. Poe Dameron.”

“Nice to meet you, Poe,” she replies, her hazel eyes dancing with mirth.

Rose grins at Rey and tells her, “He’s getting his master’s too,” before her attention is caught by the man in the corner booth. “Ready for your check, Klaud?” At his nod she turns back to the two, muttering a quick “Excuse me” before walking off with his bill.

Rey grins at Rose’s retreating figure. “Mind if I join you?” At his nod — and he’s sure he didn’t nod too quickly or too much, it was a perfectly appropriate nod, thank you very much — she comes around the booth to sit next to him. “I always make a point to get to know the new customers.”

“Is that so?” he asks, sliding the ketchup over to her and watching as she begins dousing her fries in it.

“It is so. Easiest way I know to guilt trip them into coming back here. Gotta keep the money flowing,” she teases.

“And here I was thinking this cheeseburger was all that was needed to bring them back.”

“Well, it is one of the draws, but not as much as the pie.”

Poe glances over at the currently empty pie display before turning back to see Rey grinning.

“They’re pretty popular, if I do say so myself. The cheeseburger and much of the rest of the menu are all Beau, Rose, and Finn, but the pie is all me. I make them before I head to campus in the morning.”

“Rose said you’re getting your master’s too?”

“Yep,” she says, popping the ‘p’, a proud smile on her face. “History.”

“And Rose said you own this place.” At Rey’s nod, he smiles. “Must keep you plenty busy.”

“It does,” she says, and before taking a hefty bite of her burger, asks, “What about you?”

“Public policy. Just started this semester.”

“That’s not exactly the easiest program, I hear.”

Poe chuckles. “No, it certainly is not, if the last few days have been any indication. But it lets me stay nearby and to keep working for Senator Organa.”

“Leia?” Her face looks shocked, and when he nods, she just shakes her head. “Sorry. It’s just a small world, I guess. I know her, through her brother actually.”

“Luke?”

This time it’s her turn to nod. “Yeah.”

“It is a small world then.”

He’s got an incredible urge to know more about her, to ask her more questions about her life, find out how she knows the Skywalker/Organa’s, and how she came to own this diner, but for once he doesn’t run headlong into it. He tells himself to proceed slowly, cautiously. Even more than that, he _wants_ to take his time getting to know her. Something tells him that his life is about to change completely.

He also manages to repress his dopey grin. He’s always been the overly sentimental, romantic type. He blames his parents’ love story for that entirely.

Instead, they spend the rest of their meal on lighter topics, bantering and talking about school, and before he knows it, their meals are done, and she’s walking around the side of the counter to send the dirty plates back to be washed.

He’s certain he’s taken up too much of her time though, and he begins pulling out his wallet to pay the bill and get out of her hair.

“Put that away,” Rey says as she grins at him. “This one’s on the house.”

“Oh no, that’s not necessary.”

“I told you, gotta keep the money flowing. And what better way to get a repeat customer than to guilt trip them into coming back?”

“Have to say though, you already sold me with your talk about the pie here.”

“You do need to come back and try them sometime.”

“I think I will. And thank you,” he says, even as he pulls out a few bills and places them onto the counter for the tip.

He manages to slip back out into the darkness without tripping over his own feet, giving himself a mental pat on the back for not embarrassing himself too badly. And when he walks in to his little apartment, a chunky corgi waiting patiently for his evening walk, he pretends not to notice the _look_ he gets from his dog, thanks to the giddy, punch drunk smile that lingers on his face.

* * *

Rey turns the lock on the door, flips the sign to closed, and walks back to her chair before plopping down and dropping her head onto the countertop.

“Oh my god,” she moans. “Oh my god.”

She hears Rose snicker just as her arms, which are cradling her head, are bumped into by _something_.

She turns her head to the side and sees Rose, dirty rag in hand.

“Eww, Rose,” she grimaces, picking her head and arms up off the counter.

Rose grins, absolutely unrepentant. “I was cleaning that, and you put your head in the way. Besides, I wouldn’t think you would complain, considering how high up on cloud nine you are right now.”

“He was beautiful,” Rey sighs dreamily

Rose echoes the sigh. “Yes. Yes, he was.”

“And he was so nice.”

“He was very nice. And he left a very nice tip,” Rose concludes with a wink.

“And smart! He’s getting his master’s too!”

Rose chuckles. “Yep.”

Rey glances over her shoulders, as if she hadn’t just locked up the diner. “Was he real? He wasn’t just a figment of my imagination right, he was real?”

“Very real.” Rose grins. “But maybe you should doublecheck the next time he’s in here. Pinch his arm to see if you’re dreaming.”

Rey furrows her brow. “Isn’t it that I pinch _myself_ to see if I’m dreaming?”

“Sure, but wouldn’t you rather pinch him? He looked like he had some nice arms under that long t-shirt he wore.”

“Rose!”

“I’m just saying, I may be a happily engaged woman, but that was one nice looking man,” Rose drawls.

Rey drops her head back down to the counter, grimacing at the dampness left behind by the rag. _He’s a customer, Rey. He’s a customer._

A very beautiful customer.

* * *

Rey doesn’t see Poe the next few days, and Rose and Connix, who works the early shift, hadn’t either.

She tries not to be too disappointed.

But clearly she’s less than successful.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be back.”

Rey scowls at Rose, the other girl much too chirpy for this early in the morning, especially since the caffeine hasn’t had enough time to hit her bloodstream yet.

She decides to play confused instead. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“That was like the tenth time you sighed over that pie filling,” Rose says, pointing down at the cherries.

“I wasn’t thinking about him.”

“I thought you didn’t know what I meant.”

Rey just glares at the other girl.

Rose laughs. “Alright, play dumb, it’s alright. I’m headed to campus now. Just try not to drool into the pie while you’re thinking about him.”

Rey throws a balled-up napkin at Rose’s retreating back — though she misses entirely — Rose laughing all the while.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the "eventual smut" tag has officially turned to just "smut." Someone has a sex dream in this chapter (and the other person is fairly confident they will have one, even if we don't see it.)

Poe hasn’t been able to get back to the diner during the past week, and he’s about ready to pull out his hair.

Between classes, his work in Senator Organa’s local office, and the fact he got suckered into a study group filled with overachievers (they were brilliant and hilarious, but they also had a tendency to work much too late) he hasn’t been free early enough to make it to the diner before it closed each evening.

But if he decides to take his chubby corgi Bee for an early afternoon walk before heading to the diner for a late lunch on Saturday, well, he has to feed himself, right?

And if he just so happens to put on the dark wash jeans and that soft black Henley that he favors, it’s not because it makes his arms and ass look good of course, but because it’s a very comfortable, very casual outfit.

And if he stops around the corner from the diner to check his hair in a car’s side mirror, it’s just because he knows it would be disrespectful to show up at a business looking unkempt.

(Okay, he knows he can be a bit of a vain man, he’s working on it. Plus, Rey’s beautiful and witty, and well, you can’t blame him for trying to impress her either.)

When he enters, he sees Rose working the counter, and with a quick glance around, he spots Rey sitting at a booth, a laptop and several books sitting in front of her, while she scratches something down in a notebook.

He grins. Apparently he’s not the only one who likes to do some things old school.

She finishes writing whatever it was she was working on pretty quickly and then she’s looking up, and _oh._ Her face immediately brightens as a wide smile crosses her face, and he thinks it’s pretty safe to say her eyes light up too, and honestly, if he didn’t know it before, he feels an incredible pull to her from that look alone.

She’s really something else.

“Poe!” she calls out cheerfully, waving him towards her table. “Glad to see you back. Guess my ruse to get a repeat customer worked.”

He laughs. “Guess it did. But I wouldn’t have been able to stay away anyway, not after trying that cheeseburger.”

“And you haven’t even tried the desserts yet. We got a lemon meringue pie and a peach cobbler today.”

“I can never say no to peach cobbler. Though to be fair, I’ve never tried a lemon meringue pie.”

She gasps, teasingly, a hand pressed to her chest. “That’s absolutely outrageous. We’ll have to correct that today.”

“Sounds good to me.”

He smiles at her, because first, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to do anything but that, but also because she’s gesturing for him to sit down at the booth with her.

Then she’s waving down Rose. “I worked through lunch. I need to eat too.”

It’s a cheeseburger for him again.

“I’ll have the same,” Rey says, and before she can open her mouth to continue, Rose jumps in.

“Extra fries?”

“Extra fries,” Rey confirms with a grin before Rose wanders away to put in their orders and grab their drinks.

Poe eyes the table filled with school work, and even though the logical part of his brain tells him Rey invited him to join her, another part of him still feels anxious about intruding on her space. “I’m sorry,” he begins, and she looks up at him in befuddlement at the sudden apology, and he continues hastily. “I can let you get back to your work, if you want.”

Her confusion gives way to surprise and then she’s shaking her head earnestly, and it’s that motion in particular that has his anxiety abating, even as her words convince him to stay “No. In fact, please _distract_ me. If I have to stare at this any longer, I might grow crossed eye.”

“What are you working on?”

“A paper. It’s due in two weeks. So honestly, I’m well ahead of the game.”

“Oh, you’re one of those people. A bit of a teacher’s pet, huh?”

“You know it,” she says with a grin. “But you can’t fool me Poe Dameron. I’d bet good money you’re the same.”

Honestly, it’s something he can’t deny. His friends tease him about it often enough. He’s just surprised she pegged him for it so easily, so he just shrugs and grins back at her, before asking “So, why history? What’s your specialty?” He’s never been too fond of small talk, and at the way her eyes light up at the question, he thinks it’s safe to say she’s not either.

He’s glad she’s not the only one who can read the other so easily.

She relaxes into her seat, thanking Rose who drops off their drinks and walks off to deal with another customer, before her face turns contemplative.

“The adventure, I think.”

“Adventure?” Honestly, he would never have expected adventure and a history degree to go hand in hand.

“I didn’t have a lot of money early on,” she begins hesitantly, although she seems to warm up as she continues. “So I spent a lot of time in the local library when I was young. The librarian helped set me up with piles of books, let me hang out there all day. I liked fiction, but what I really found myself wondering about were all these historical moments that set the stage for those stories. I found I could be a part of any place, any time period. The opportunities to explore were endless. So I majored in history in college.”

“And now?”

If her eyes were alight before, they have nothing on them now, and she leans forward and props her elbows on the table as she tells him, “I’m researching the social and political history of Modern Europe, with a focus on the French Resistance movement. The paper I’m working on examines some of the roles women played in it.”

“Oh, that’s an amazing topic, absolutely perfect,” he says, his face brightening with mirth.

“You really think so?”

“Destroying fascists, isn’t that the dream?”

Rey laughs brightly, the sound carrying through the diner, before she wags a finger at him. “You do get it, don’t ya? Oh, you’re going to be dangerous.”

The food arrives at the table a moment later and then they’re both digging in, but not before he shoots her a grin at her absolutely bewildered look when he pours more than a little ketchup onto his fries. (“Are you trying to drown them? I can assure you the fries are well and truly dead already.”)

She gets revenge though and laughs at his wide-eyed look when she squeezes mayo alongside her ketchup and runs a fry through them to mix them together before popping the fry into her mouth.

The mixture may look disgusting, but he can’t help but think she looks incredibly beautiful, even with— maybe even especially—that pleased smirk playing at her lips.

They spend the rest of the meal chatting about their respective programs, before it dips briefly into the topic of their families. He tells her about Kes, and even talks about Shara Bey, the pain still making his heart ache even more than two decades after her loss.

But then she reaches out and squeezes his hand, and she tells him things he senses she doesn’t open up about much either. He’s more than a little surprised to learn that the librarian she had been talking about, Ben Kenobi, had later become her adoptive father. And while she skirts over the topic of where she had been before that, she talks enthusiastically about how Ben led her Dex and eventually to Luke and Leia.

“Ben died when I was 15. Luke took me in after that, said Ben had been a father to him in many ways and . . . and it wasn’t always easy, but Luke became like a father to me too.”

There’s something sad in her eyes, along with the fondness and affection, and he wants to see her smile. It’s why he can’t help but tell her, “Leia always told me he was a bit of a drama queen.”

She laughs, the sound loud and boisterous once again. It pleases him to no end. “Such a drama queen! It’s got to be in their genes or something. It’s that whole family.”

“It is! It really, really is!”

Even as the words fade away, he’s more than delighted that she’s still smiling at him. At first, it’s bright and warm, and he knows there is something almost fond ( _he hopes, oh how he hopes_ ) on her face. He thinks he must look much the same.

Then she nods at his empty plate. “Well, I hope you saved room. We’ve got pie to eat.”

He groans, patting his belly. “I think I can manage, but how can you? You ate a double cheeseburger and at least twice the amount of fries I had.”

“You’ll find I am a woman of many talents,” she says, giving him a playful wink.

He blinks, and has to swallow hard, glad that she’s not paying attention to him as she stands to walk over to the pie counter. She’s already absurdly attractive to begin with, but to combine that with that wink and the obvious innuendo?

He’s doomed. He just knows it.

Then she sets the pies down at their table before sitting across from him once again, a bright smile on her face.

He’s never had lemon meringue pie before, but he can’t deny that it sounds delicious in theory, and it looks absolutely incredible, from the even brown of the pie crust to the bright yellow of the lemon custard filling, all topped off with the fluffiest meringue he’s ever seen.

“It looks amazing,” he says in awe. It’s almost too beautiful to eat.

She bites her lip and nods, suddenly looking equal parts shy and eager, before she gestures toward him. “Try it.”

He brings a bite of the pie to his mouth, and immediately his eyes close in pleasure as lemon, sweet and tart, hits his tongue, feels the tender crust under his teeth, and that fluffy, caramelized top and . . .

And he’s moaning before he knows it.

His eyes spring back up open, feeling his cheeks heat even as he hastily swallows his bite. He’s already thinking of the million different ways to apologize for what he can only assume was a very lewd sounding moan, even if he hadn’t intended it to sound that way, or even moan at all.

But he couldn’t help it. The pie was just that good.

But even as he opens his mouth to apologize, he gets a good look at her. Rey’s eyes are wide, her lips parted just so, and —

_Is she blushing?_

The tips of her ears are pink and the flush on her cheeks only seems to make her freckles more pronounced than usual. His eyes briefly rove down before he catches himself, but not before he sees that her blush creeps down her neck.

He can’t help but wonder just how far down the blush goes. How far it _could_ go.

He doesn’t have to be a fortune teller to know the direction his dreams are going to go tonight.

He just hopes she can’t read it on his face, but she’s so clever, so observant, he figures she must.

_Oh, he’s going to hell_.

* * *

After Poe leaves that evening, Rey packs up and wanders into the back to help Rose finish cleaning up at the end of her shift.

But first, she sags into a chair, pouting up at Rose while the other girl waves a sheet pan in her general direction.

“You need a bit of a breeze, girl? Looking a little flushed. Wonder what’s got you so worked up?”

“He moaned Rose. When he tried the pie, he moaned.”

“He moaned?”

“I swear, it was like a sex moan. And I don’t even think he meant to do it!” She can recall it so vividly, even now. She had tried not to think about it so soon after it happened, when Poe was still sitting in front of her, absolutely sure that he could see her thoughts written all over her face. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t felt the heat rising to her cheeks when it happened, desperate not to visibly squirm in her seat while sitting in front of him.

But now, now she has no such qualms (at least when Rose is turned away from her). That moan, low and deep in his chest, the way his eyes pressed close in pleasure, his tongue dipping out to lick the corner of his lip —

She clears her throat, desperately trying to bring her mind back to the here and now, when she only wants to think about him.

“Oh, so you’re telling me he didn’t just like the pie, but he liked it so much he gave you a sex moan,” Rose says. Rey just pouts harder while Rose’s laughter fills the room. “I think we need to get you an ice pack to help you cool down.”

“I shouldn’t be thinking about him this way.”

“Oh please. He’s seriously attractive, and he’s seriously nice. Plus, he’s very generous with the tipping, and that’s always a fantastic sign in a human being.” Rose pauses for a long moment before she smirks. “And at the very least, he’ll sound pretty in bed.”

“Rose!” Rey exclaims as she drops her head into her hands, sure she’s as red as a tomato, the other woman only laughing louder.

But then Rose says, “But seriously, he likes you. Whatever you’re worrying about in your head, let me tell you, you shouldn’t be.”

“I shouldn’t?”

“Nope. Because I’m pretty sure he likes you too, plus . . .”

“Plus what?”

“Plus, wouldn’t you rather spend your time thinking about how he sounds when he’s moaning?”

“Rose!”

* * *

Turns out, even if she had wanted to think about something else, her subconscious wouldn’t let her. Poe shows up in her dreams.

She’s standing in the kitchen of her home, a place that always feels comfortable, cozy even. It’s small and still a little run down despite her improvements, but it’s her pride and joy. It’s something that’s all hers.

But there’s something different now. Her walls are still the same bright yellow she had painted them when she first moved in. There’s still the same plethora of plants and flowers stuffed into every nook and cranny, sitting on every shelf and windowsill. There are still the same soft green curtains fluttering in the breeze filtering in through the open windows. Even the ingredients and equipment she uses to mix them together for the pie she’s currently working on are all the same.

But everything seems brighter somehow. Then she hears that familiar laughter that fills her belly with warmth, and a strong pair of arms wrap around her waist as she works. The man’s sleeves are rolled up, so she can see the tan skin, the toned forearms, and she instantly recognizes them, having spent so much time staring at them and his strong, dexterous hands at the diner.

In her dream, even with a person who’s never been in her home before, she’s oddly at ease, yet bold at the same time. She feels his lips at her neck, and it’s easy enough to relax into his arms at the same time she tilts her head to the side to give him more skin to access.

He presses kiss after kiss into the column of her throat, with an occasional nip at the sensitive skin, just enough to make her shiver. Even though he shows no signs of moving away, she reaches up and slides her hand into his hair, with a grip not too tight but with just enough of an edge so she can feel him groan into her skin.

It’s easy enough to slide that hand around until it’s cupping his cheek, to turn her head until she can bring his lips to hers. His lips are warm and plush, and despite the unhurried pace, it’s no less the passionate. When his tongue brushes her bottom lip, it’s so easy to let him in, and just enjoy the taste of Poe, lovely and rich. But she needs more, so she turns in his arms until she can begin to curl herself around him, wanting to lose that border between where Poe ends and she begins.

As his lips begin moving down her neck again, he pushes her back into the counter, no less gentle for the assertiveness. She manages to work his shirt off him despite his insistence on continuing to kiss her, and then she’s absolutely helpless to stop herself from smoothing her hands over his shoulders, over his chest and to his back, all that wonderful bare skin beneath her hands, and he seems just as eager for her touch as she is for his.

She needs more, and the bold Rey of her dreams tells him this, and he’s grinning against her collarbone. She feels the delightful wickedness of his grin more than she can see it, and it makes her ache, but then he’s sliding to his knees, his hands trailing a heated path down her body until he’s tugging her pants down her legs. He takes his time again, and it’s slow and languid and _wonderful_ , but it’s also driving her crazy, and she buries her hands into his hair and moans wantonly, urging him along as pleasure coils at the base of her spine.

As she shakes apart beneath his talented mouth and hands, he’s groaning into her, as if making her feel good makes him feel good, and she can’t quite believe it could get any better—

But then he’s rising to his feet and she’s wrapping her legs around his waist as he lifts her to the counter, and he’s slipping his length into her, filling her up so well, so wonderfully.

She can’t get enough of him as he fucks into her, her hands stroking over every inch of skin exposed to her grasp, tasting the salt and sweat and _Poe_ beneath her lips and tongue as she kisses his lips, his neck, his collarbone. Even his voice fills her ears with the most delightful sounds, his moans, sweet and rich and heady, his words whispering to her _you feel so good_ and _you’re beautiful_ and _my love_ —

The Rey in her dreams has no shame in shrieking out her pleasure and his name as she shakes apart again in his arms, Poe falling over the edge shortly after, his face pressing into her neck as her name falls from his lips and—

She awakens, her hand clutching the blanket, her chest heaving. The images continue to race through her mind, and all she can think is somehow she has to manage to get through a morning of classes with that lingering in her memory. The worst part is she just _knows_ that she’s going to see Poe at the diner again, probably sooner than later, and she’ll have to greet him as if she didn’t just dream about him _like that_.

She glances over at her clock. There’s still time for her to get a few more hours of sleep.

She closes her eyes, trying not to think too deeply about the fact that she’s hoping Poe will be in her dreams again.


	3. Chapter 3

Poe’s a steady presence at the diner over the next several weeks. He tries not to go too often, but sometimes he just can’t help himself and he finds his feet treading over that familiar path before he knows it.

It takes a little shuffling around with his budget, but with a little finesse, he can eat at the diner two or three times a week. Sometimes Kaydel or Beau will be there, but more often than not Rose will be behind the counter with a handful of other customers in the place. Sometimes Rey will be on the floor helping out Rose or the others, while other times she’ll be in the office.

Those times, he winces as Rose greets him before she yells to Rey, her voice ringing throughout the diner, “It’s Poe again!”

Oh, Rose knows. She totally knows. Worse yet is when Beau is working the kitchen and he grins and waves, cause Poe knows that he knows too, and god, how obvious is Poe if the guy who mostly stays in the back and has only been there a handful of times when Poe’s been there knows?

Rey probably knows too. Oh god, she must know.

But he usually doesn’t have too much time to be embarrassed, because Rey will come out front to join him for a meal, or if the place is too busy, she’ll stop by every so often and sit down to rest and chat with him for a few minutes.

At the very least, he hopes he can give her a few moments to relax during her busy day. He knows how hard she works. And if in those moments he learns more and more about Rey, like how she eats dessert’s first when she’s eating alone (“I can’t continue the lie any longer. I’ve been trying to refrain from telling you how weird you are for eating your dinner first,” she told him, completely deadpan), or how she has probably over fifty different house plants in her home. And it’s not even just those little details she gives him. Sometimes it’s the bigger things too, like how much Ben and Luke had brought to her life after her early years of abandonment (and true, he senses there’s more to that story, but even her telling him that much he senses takes an unbelievable amount of trust) and how while she loves the diner, and she can’t ever adequately thank Dex for the gift and the trust he had placed in her, sometimes she imagines a life filled with more adventure . . . or at least a way to utilize her history degree to live vicariously through some adventure from long ago, while also fulfilling her innate nerdiness.

(“Innate nerdiness?” he asked.

She just rolled her eyes. “Don’t play dumb, you’re the same.”

He nodded, because he knows he totally is.)

And every time she opens up to him, he tries to do the same. And it’s not just to try to repay the trust she’s placed in him because he knows, he just knows, it doesn’t come easy to her, but because he finds that he wants her to know about him, that maybe he’s safe with her too. So he tells her how Bee came into his life soon after he left the military, while he was recuperating from his injury and still more than a little depressed at the idea of having what he always imagined to be a life-long career taken away from him in an instant. And he tells her how Senator Organa—Leia—had then come back into his life and helped him discover his purpose. He also told Rey about how losing his mom led him to running away for a while as a teenager, how much he regrets it even to this day, a fact he still can barely begin to acknowledge most of the time, he’s so ashamed of it. He even tells her that he has weekly Dungeons and Dragons meetups with Iolo and Yolo and a handful of other friends, and how he hates pineapple, but loves any other type of fruit, will eat cantaloupe and honeydew by the truckload if he could, and prefers salty snacks to sweet.

(Rey gasped in mock-horror at that, and all he wanted to do was kiss that sound out of her mouth.)

All this is the reason why he’s spent the last week absolutely dejected. After weeks of visiting the dinner on a routine basis of sorts, life got in the way again.

He’s been impossibly busy the past week, somehow having to juggle one of the biggest assignments that he’s ever had the pleasure of working on for Senator Organa (“You know I’m currently the low man on the totem pole, right?” he had reminded her, wincing as if she didn’t already know. She just smirked at him, in that knowing Organa way, and said “For now.”) while at the same time he had to work on one of the biggest assignments of the semester so far.

_God, what even is sleep?_

But then the weekend hit, and by Sunday afternoon he realized he had slept ninety percent of it away. While the rest felt amazing, he knew there was only one thing that felt better, and it was also the one thing he was desperately craving.

He takes Bee for a walk before quickly changing into blue jeans and a heather gray long sleeve shirt and throwing on his leather jacket. Then, after one last look in the mirror where he adjusts the curl brushing his forehead, he turns to his chubby corgi, who seems more eager to return to his nap than to pay attention to what Poe was doing.

“Alright, Bee, I’m headed out to see Rey at the diner. Wish me luck.”

The dog just gives him a _look_ , before returning his head to his paws, eyes drooping closed once again.

“Thanks, love ya too,” Poe teases, before heading out.

The skies were gray before, but a light rain has begun to fall, though it does nothing to dampen his mood. In fact, by the time he’s turning the last corner and sees the neon lights of Dex’s Diner brightening up the gloomy evening air, he’s whistling some long-forgotten tune while huddled under his umbrella.

As he approaches the door, he can see Rey through the windows, leaning against the counter as she laughs with Rose. The dreary weather seems to have kept other customers away though, as it’s only the two girls inside.

The bell dings as he enters, and then his breath is stolen as Rey turns that smile towards him, and he doesn’t think it’s his imagination running away from him when he thinks that her face brightens even further as she spots him.

The two girls greet him, and then he’s sitting down at the counter while Rose heads to the back after taking his order. Rey fills a few drinks for them before placing them on the counter, leaning against it as she grins.

“It’s been a minute, Poe Dameron. I thought you had forgotten about us.”

_Be cool, Dameron. Be cool._

But between her leaning in close to talk to him and the smile she gives him, he’s most definitely _not cool_. “No! No, of course I hadn’t forgotten about you—this place, you. I mean, I’ve been busy. School and work and school.”

“And don’t forget school,” she teases.

He’s an adult, so he has absolutely no qualms about sticking his tongue out at her. She just grins back, the look of it devilish and absolutely unrepentant.

If she doesn’t know about his obvious crush on her, she must now. Because all he can think is how often he wants to see that grin. And when she tucks some loose hair behind her ear, all he can think is how he wanted to do it himself, feel the soft locks between his fingers, stroke his fingertip over the rim of her ear to see if it makes her shiver.

He wasn’t cool before, but he’s definitely not cool now, though now it’s for an entirely different reason.

Rey comes around the counter to sit next to him, and somehow he manages not to stammer through their conversation.

Soon after his burger arrived, and a huge plate of fries was put in front of Rey without her ordering anything (Rey just shrugged, and said, “Rose just gets me.”) the other woman pops her head out of the kitchen to ask, “Do you need me to stick around any longer? It doesn’t look like we’re getting anyone else in tonight,” and she points her chin to the window where the rain continues falling. “What do you say we close up?”

Rey grins. “You just want to see Finn.”

Rose grins back. “I just want to see Finn.”

Rey laughs. “Go ahead and head on out.”

Rose shrugs on her jacket, clearly ready to go. “Good night, Rey, Poe,” and with that she flips the sign around to “Closed” before locking the front door behind her.

Poe fumbles for his wallet, even with half his fries still remaining on his plate. “I can go ahead and pay up if you want to head out too.”

But then he stills as Rey rests her hand on his forearm. Her voice is almost a little bashful, as she says “Relax, I’m not rushing you out of here. It’s just Rose hasn’t seen Finn in a week, since he went out of town to visit a friend. And I’m . . . I’m not in a rush to go anywhere.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, tentatively.

“I’m sure. And now I’m gonna be offended if you try to gobble that down and don’t order dessert too.”

Poe laughs at the abruptness of her comment, the change from sweetly shy to teasing, and that earns him a smile from Rey. God, he always wants to see her smile like that.

Poe tries not to freak out too visibly when he realizes it’s just them now, but luck’s in his favor anyway, as Rey’s gazing idly towards the dessert counter.

“I’m thinking the apple pie tonight. It’s a Dex’s Diner specialty. What do you think?”

“Sounds good to me,” he says, glad for the distraction. “You’ve always got something different here, it seems like. Did you know how to make all them before you owned this place or did you learn it after?”

She laughs. “Actually, the apple pie was literally Dex’s specialty. That was _the_ dessert to get back when he owned the place. He taught me how to make it when I would come in to visit him with Ben. But it was actually Luke who taught me how to make a lot of the other pies.”

“Luke? You’re kidding.”

She grins, delighted at being the bearer of this surprising news. “I promise you I’m not. He told me about this absolutely horrible, rotten meal he had this one time. It was actually prepared by one of his mentors. And of course if you’re eating a meal prepared by someone you respect, you gotta at least pretend to like it, right? But after that, he told me from then on he was determined to learn how to cook so he wouldn’t subject anyone else to such a horrid meal. And apparently he had quite a knack for pies. You should have seen some of the designs he did with the crust.” She puts the tips of her fingers to her lips to give them a smacking kiss, before drawing them away. “Sheer perfection.”

Poe sits there, his jaw agape, a french fry held still in the air before his mouth.

Rey giggles, leaning in to squeeze his bicep. “That was my reaction too.”

Poe’s absolutely caught up in everything Rey, her beauty, her laugh, and now she’s touching him?

Luckily he can blame the shock from her story about Luke Skywalker as being the reason why he sits there with his mouth open, his head spinning, for far longer than he should.

It doesn’t help that his mind unhelpfully recalls all the finer details of her touch from his dreams the last few nights. Now though, he knows that his dreams don’t hold a candle to the physical reality of it.

Christ, he’s a customer at her business, this can’t be appropriate. He needs to get a handle on his crush before she throws him out of her diner forever.

When he settles his bill at the end of the night, he doesn’t let himself linger on the thought of never getting the chance to see Rey again too much, if she catches on and bans him from her business, as the very idea of it makes his heart ache something fierce.

But he also wants to see her, always, wants to hear what all her different kinds of laughs sound like, see all the different kinds of smiles that could grace her face, wants to know what she feels like in his arms, what sounds she’d make deep in pleasure . . .

He’s so absolutely and totally screwed.

As he stands to head for the door, her voice stops him in his tracks.

“You know, I was thinking about possibly expanding the dessert selection?”

He turns and sees Rey with her hands clamped over her mouth.

“You okay?” he asks, hesitantly. _What did he miss?_

She brings her hands down, but doesn’t meet his eyes. “I was just thinking that sounds like the beginning of some sort of horrible pick up line. ‘Hey, I was thinking about expanding my dessert selection, and I was hoping it would be you?’” And then Rey groans again, her hands covering her entire face now. “Oh my god, that sounds even worse, what is wrong with me? I’m sorry, Poe. I get it if you want to leave and never come back.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s okay,” he says, and truly it is. In fact, he’s kind of disappointed that she _didn’t_ mean that part about him being the dessert selection. He takes a step forward, hesitantly, hopefully. “But what were you intending to say?”

It looks like it takes sheer force of will for her to meet his eyes head on, and he smiles at her, softly, to hopefully encourage her.

“I meant that I was literally thinking of expanding the dessert selection, maybe to add some cupcakes or something. Nothing too fancy,” she says, and he hopes she can’t sense his disappointment, but then she continues. “And I was thinking maybe you could be my taste tester? Or my co-baker? I don’t know if you bake, but I was thinking I could ask you if you wanted to help out, because honestly, I thought it sounded better than asking you out on a date, even though I really want to ask you out on a date, but I can’t because you’re my customer and I didn’t want you to run away and to never see you again, and—”

He’s never seen her babble like this, and her face is turning progressively more and more red. He hates the idea of interrupting her when she’s talking, but she looks like she’s about to vibrate out of her skin.

“Rey,” he says, and she stops talking suddenly, her face falling, and he can’t have that. “I’ll be happy to help you out in the kitchen.” Then he grins, teasingly, because he can’t help himself. “But I wouldn’t exactly say no to a date either.”

Her jaw drops. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“You’re kidding.”

He shakes his head. “Absolutely not. In fact, Rey, will you go out on a date with me?”

Her smile lights up her face and she laughs, but it’s not a mocking sort of laugh, or that awkward, uncomfortable sort either.

It’s gleeful, joyful, the sort of laugh you let out when you’re just absolutely and completely _happy_.

He can’t believe he’s the one who made her make that sort of sound.

Her hand comes up to cover her mouth, but he can still see her pink-stained cheeks and her bright eyes, and then finally she nods, her hand coming down to rest at her side once again, and she says, “Yes. Yes, I’d love to go on a date with you.”

When he leaves a few minutes later, he touches his cheeks, finding a delightful sort of ache there. He realizes it’s because he’s smiling so widely, and has been for so long. His spirit feels freer and lighter than it has in ages, and he realizes here, in this moment, that this isn’t just a crush. Rey’s become someone he feels unbelievably close to, thinks she’s someone he could share anything and everything with and be completely safe. He knows it’s not just a crush, because now, even before their first real date, he’s certain that he’s in love with her.

He thought the realization of it might be scarier. But it only fills him with hope.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thirsty Thursday! Once more we earn that E rating. If you would like to skip over the sex, it should be pretty obvious when things start heating up. Just look for the moment when Rey finishes up the tour of her house at her bedroom door, and it covers almost all the way up to the end. Just look for "She collapses against his chest ..." if you want to skip the sex and only read the last few cuddly moments between the two.

It’s been a minute since Rey’s been on a first date.

Okay, it’s been more like . . . two years since she’s been on a date at all. Between her studies and running the diner and wanting to spend time with her friends who she already loves and adores, she never really found herself going on too many dates.

And if she’s honest with herself, there’s the part where she doesn’t actually trust that many people enough to willingly put her heart into their hands like that.

One halfway serious partner and the handful of dates she’s otherwise been on is pretty much the sum total of her experience in her life.

But back then, she didn’t have Rose Tico and Finn soon-to-be-Tico in her life either.

So that’s how she finds herself in her office at the diner with Rose, batting the other woman’s hands away when she tries to offer Rey mascara (“Honestly, have you seen me wear makeup, like, ever?”) but Rey does let her create an intricate (well, more intricate than Rey could ever do) updo in her hair.

Rey touches the crown of braids with an admiring finger before quickly changing into the dress she bought to wear tonight. Their first date is dinner, and Poe had mentioned something about soft music and candlelight, and except for the part where there’s food, the whole idea of it is so different from their time spent together at the diner—and honestly, her whole history of dating has mostly been beer and pizza and the occasional movie—so this is making her unexpectedly nervous but thrilled simultaneously . . .

There’s a knock on the door and Finn pops his head in. “Poe just showed up, and look at you! Yowza!”

Rey rolls her eyes jokingly at Finn’s attempts at catcalls, but she does do a little spin for him to show herself off before Finn grins at his fiancée and tells her “You are a genius.”

“I know,” Rose smirks, as she tilts her head up for a kiss from Finn.

Rey takes a deep breath and gives herself another quick check in the mirror before turning to her friends, the butterflies churning in her stomach as she says “Wish me luck!”

Rose grins, wickedly. “Yeah, get lucky, girlfriend.”

Rey just flips her off as she steps into the diner, and immediately she is thankful that she doesn’t trip over her own feet.

Poe stands there in dark slacks and a light blue button down. His curly hair is combed back, a rogue curl escaping onto his forehead while the perfect amount of stubble frames his strong jaw, the sort that desperately makes her want to feel it under her fingertips.

He looks good enough to eat. And he brought her flowers.

She takes the daisies from him before burying her nose in them, glad that she has a moment where she can hide her face from Poe. She’s sure he can read everything she’s thinking just by looking at her and seeing the blush that rises to her cheeks.

Her inescapable attraction to him, and the thoughts that inevitably follow in its wake, proves to be a common occurrence during their dates over the next few weeks.

* * *

It doesn’t help that one of their dates is at a local mini-golf place.

They’re both dressed down in shorts and t-shirts, and she gets an eyeful of those arms that were more often than not hidden under long sleeves because the buildings on campus were kept notoriously cold.

But Poe’s forearms are back on display as are his biceps, and she can’t help but think they look particularly good as he takes his shot.

It also doesn’t help that apparently they’re both notoriously competitive, and while the teasing and smack talk is all in good fun, it also gets her adrenaline up.

When they find out they _tied_ though, somehow that results in both of them gleeful enough that they end up in each other’s arms and he’s spinning her around and she’s giggling madly, even as she can’t help but think about how closely they’re pressed together as he does so.

They manage to hold it together though until they’re leaving the park and they find a place behind the trees, away from people, and then with the butterflies fluttering happily in her belly and her nod of approval, his hands are cradling her face and he’s leaning in close.

Their first kiss is sweet as can be.

Their second, third, and fourth? Still sweet, but she finds it impossible to part from him, only ever trying to pull him closer to her even as he presses her into the closest tree.

It turns out his stubble feels just as good under her lips as it does under her fingers.

But it does leave her craving more.

* * *

One afternoon he takes Rey to lunch, and they sit outside in the warm sunshine as a cool breeze blows gently in the air. Bee sits at Rey’s feet and Poe grins at her whenever she reaches down to run her fingers through his dog’s soft fur. But Poe finds that if he starts to pout just before she looks back up, she’ll roll her eyes playfully before leaning in and giving him a quick kiss, her fingers coming up to tuck that unruly curl behind his ear, blunt fingernails scratching at his scalp just so, before leaning back.

Apparently both owner and pet are equal affection hounds. And while Rey clearly understands the game he’s playing, he can’t help but play it to his advantage.

(Considering her amused grin and how often her fingers find their way into his hair anyway, he suspects she likes the game as much as he does.)

As they’re getting up to leave, Bee at the end of his leash sniffing eagerly at the grass nearby, he spots a sign advertising a local flower and garden festival.

Rey gasps when he points it out to her and he can’t help but laugh, absolutely delighted at her enthusiastic response.

“I take it you want to check it out?” he asks. She’s shown him more than a few pictures of her own “pets,” her pride and joy, her garden outside and the plants that fill the inside of her home.

“Yes, please,” she says, nodding eagerly.

“Don’t have to beg,” he says teasingly, throwing in a wink for good measure. “Whatever you want, you only ever have to ask.”

“Is that so?” she asks, and he glances at her to see her cheeks slightly pink, and he can’t be sure if it’s from the sun or the innuendo behind it all, except that her face is that mix of bold and bashful that he finds so alluring and keeps him on his toes. 

He tries not to focus too much on it as they continue the walk to the festival though. They’re out in public, and he finds himself liking the idea a little too much in relation to Rey. He’s not sure which idea he likes better, hearing her beg him for pleasure, or the reverse.

Honestly, both seem pretty amazing.

Though he tries to ignore it, the thought causes warmth to curl low in his belly, and it never quite leaves completely, even as they peruse the booths and wander through the rows of plants at the festival. There’s more than a few nice options at a reasonable price (and he grins as Rey gives herself a quiet pep talk to splurge a little on some nice new plants for her garden, before chatting pleasantly at a few of the plants as she selects them), and then he’s grinning because she’s laughing while watching Poe carry some of the flowers she selected, as every few feet he can’t help but put his nose into the sweet smelling flowers.

“You’re going to make yourself dizzy if you keep doing that,” she teases.

“Worth it,” he sing-songs back at her.

He does end up stumbling a little over his feet a minute later when he does it again, and he pouts until she leans over her own armful to give him a quick kiss.

If this is her reaction every time he pouts, well, you can’t blame him for gaming the system a little, right?

She leads them back to her house, and it’s the first time he’s ever been there, so he’s more than a little excited, and a little bit nervous though he can’t quite figure out why, but it’s a _good_ nervous, an exhilarating sort of nervous.

Apparently he’s not the only one excited about getting to see Rey’s house, though to be fair, it seems directed more at her backyard. Bee is eager to get off his leash, and even more eager to see a fenced in backyard, and he bolts straight for the back door, looking over his shoulder at them balefully to let him out.

“Why don’t we put these out back before I give you the grand tour,” she tells him, and as soon as Rey opens the door, Bee shoots off like a shot before either him or Rey takes a step outside. Bee promptly finds the sunniest portion of the yard, before sprawling on his back and settling down for a snooze.

“Pretty sure he’s never going to leave here now,” he says, grinning, as he places the flowerpots and other supplies down where she directs him next to her own armful.

“Well, it’s fenced in, and there’s nothing toxic for dogs back here,” she says. “Maybe next time there will be another dog around to keep him company.” He knows Rey’s fostered a few dogs during her time there. He can almost imagine one of them scampering around the yard playing with Bee, and it brings a smile to his face.

She fills up a water bowl for Bee at the outside faucet, the corgi picking up his head just long enough to notice it before he returns to his nap. Rey stands, dusting the dirt off of her hands on her jeans, before turning to face Poe.

Then she breaks out laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“You have dirt,” she says, gesturing to his cheek, and he swipes at it. Some dirt comes away on his hand, but she’s just laughing harder. “Now you just smeared it all over. Let’s go in and get you cleaned up.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, clicking his heels as he gives her a jaunty salute.

She just playfully rolls her eyes at him again, even as she grabs his hand and leads him inside. “And here’s the kitchen,” she says, gesturing around her, a wry grin suddenly appearing on her face. “Guess I’m just stating the obvious though.”

He tries to take it all in as she leads him to the sink, wetting down a towel before dabbing it gently against his cheek. It’s such a bright, warm space, overflowing with life, jars filled with sugar and flour and containers filled with sweets—as if he needed any more proof of her incredible sweet tooth—that he can’t help but smile.

It must be a bit goofy looking, because her nose wrinkles in that adorable way he loves so much.

“What is it?”

How does he even begin to tell her? Instead he just says, “Can I kiss you?”

She nods, smiling. He’s pleased to see it’s a bit goofy too. God, he’s so fond of her.

He cups her cheek in his hand, stroking a thumb along her cheekbone, before leaning in. Her lips are warm and sweet beneath his, and he can’t resist deepening the kiss, even as she presses closer, her hands stroking over his shoulders to curve around his neck.

When her fingers tease the hair at the nape of his neck, he shivers, her lips curving beneath his in triumph.

He can’t let her have all the fun though. His tongue strokes at the seam of her lips, and he’s rewarded when she sighs, pleased, her lips parting for him. It’s far too easy to spend the next several minutes in the kitchen, exchanging kisses, sweet and slow, hot and passionate, and everything in between.

It’s only when she pulls away, panting for breath and resting her forehead against his, that he realizes he’s hard.

She rubs her thumb against his bottom lip as she says “Let me give you the rest of the tour.”

She takes his hand, tugging him through the hallway, and he goes so easily, caught in her pull. “You’ve already seen the living room,” she says, making an aimless gesture towards the space they had walked through earlier, warm and cozy with a sofa that looks incredibly comfortable and bookshelves overflowing with books and plants and carefully arranged knickknacks.

Then, “Guest room,” she points out, and then “Bathroom” but at this point he barely notices it as he only has eyes for her. He watches the way her freckles become more prominent, highlighted by the flush in her cheeks, sees the way her eyes keep darting back to his own.

“And here’s my bedroom,” she says as they stop in front of a closed door, Rey gazing at him full on, his hand still clasped in hers. “Would you like to see it?”

“Very much,” he says, his voice deeper than usual even to his own ears.

Rey bites her lip, and he’s momentarily distracted by it, but then she’s pulling him inside and then her lips are on his again.

Rey’s hands are on his waist and hips, pulling him close, as their kisses quickly turn deep and passionate. He’s got his hands in her hair, pulling it out of her customary bun, when she pulls away with a gasp, and suddenly he’s worried he’s hurt her.

“Poe,” she says, eyes looking deeply into his own.

“Yeah?”

“Will you take me to bed?”

Once more, she becomes that enigmatic mix of boldness and shyness, and god, there’s nothing he wants more. “Is that what you want?”

She nods, rapidly, and then he’s leaning in, this time to dot short, biting kisses along her jaw, down the line of her throat. He uses his nose to nudge the collar of her t-shirt out of the way, his hands playing at the hem, letting his thumb slip under to stroke the soft skin of her waist, and he hears her sigh in his ear.

“I’d like that too,” he says, as if she wouldn’t know, the way her hips have been rolling into his, and him helpless to do anything but press back into hers. He knows she must be able to feel how hard he is. He tugs at the hem of her shirt. “Can I take this off?”

“Please,” she says, and then he’s lifting the shirt over her head before she eagerly returns the favor.

Once they get that first taste of bare skin beneath wandering hands, they’re both helpless to do anything but seek more, and soon enough they’re standing in front of her bed, bare to each other. It feels like he’s been punched in the gut as he’s absolutely breathless. He’s never seen anything so beautiful.

So he tells her.

She blushes and finally, _finally_ , he can see how far that blush extends, spreading from the tips of her adorable ears down her cheeks and neck, and almost to the top of her breasts.

Then she’s pushing him towards the bed, and he sits down hard, and a moment later he’s got a lap full of Rey, the heat of her core resting just above his cock. He groans, loudly, at the sensation before capturing her lips with his own.

Between the two of them, they maneuver until they’re lying down on the bed fully, hands stroking along bare skin, grasping and pulling each other closer, while their mouths move together. He loves the taste of her skin, the way she gasps when he finds the spot beneath her ear, the way she shivers, delighted, as his hand skates up her ribcage until he can cup her breast in his hand, rolling her nipple under his thumb.

“Feels good?” he asks, when he substitutes his hand for his mouth, flicking his tongue over her nipple, and he can feel the way her hips are moving under his, urgent and needy, just like his own.

“Yes,” she gasps out.

But still, he wants her to feel even better. “I’m glad,” he rasps, pressing a kiss to her other breast, before slowly tripping his fingers down her torso. “Want you to feel good.” His fingers pause just above her core, and he gazes up at her from beneath lowered lashes as he asks “May I?

“Yes,” she answers. He smiles back at her, eager and pleased, and as his fingers slip over her, he marvels at how warm and wet she is, and the way she sighs happily as he begins exploring her.

He watches eagerly, hungrily, as she writhes under his hands, eager to catalog each reaction, every expression that crosses her beautiful face. He strokes softly first, until her hips urge him faster, and then he’s stroking her clit with a firmer touch, earning him a moan of pleasure.

Nothing sounds as beautiful though as when he slips first one finger, and then a second, into her at her urging, and his name escapes her lips.

At least until she comes, shaking and gasping, under his hands.

Her hands, which had been clutching at his shoulders as he worked her, dive into his hair and she pulls him into a breathless kiss.

“I take it you enjoyed it?”

Rey laughs, the sound almost giddy. “Clearly,” she says, and he can only grin at her fondly as she rolls her eyes playfully at him once more. “But now your turn?”

Her eyes skim down his body and it’s like a physical touch, but then her fingers follow her gaze and a moment later, her warm hand wraps gently around him and it’s like a livewire has been set off beneath his skin.

His head drops to her shoulder, gritting out “Fuck” as she runs her hand up and down his length a few times, and it’s all he can do to lift his head to look at her. “Not to say I’m not enjoying this, cause I very much am,” he says, as if the way his hips roll into her grip wasn’t enough of a tell, “but I’m not sure how long I’d last like this if you’re wanting to do . . . other things.”

“I’d very much like to do other things,” she teases, stroking a finger along his jawline. He turns his head to the side to kiss it, earning him a giggle.

He smiles at her, pleased, before he practically dives off the bed to grab for his jeans, pulling out his wallet and then holding a wrapped condom up in triumph.

When he stands back up, Rey’s got a hand pressed to her lips, though it barely conceals her smirk.

“Nice ass,” she teases, and he realizes he must have given her quite a view when he bent over to grab his jeans.

He blushes even as he hurries back to bed, already finding he’s been away from her much too long. He kisses her, slow and lazy, letting his tongue meet hers as he strokes his hand along her side and up to her breast, enjoying the way her body responds to his so eagerly.

But then she pulls back and grins, her mouth wicked, and then she’s using her leg to flip him fully onto his back. She takes the condom and tears it open before easing it over his length and then she’s sitting astride him with a triumphant look, and—

Holy gods, the _view_.

“You’re beautiful.” He knows he’s told her this before, but he has to tell her again. How could he not?

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

Her look morphs into something warm and sweet, and she’s leaning down to press a slow kiss to his lips, their tongues twining together. Then she’s guiding him into her, and they gasp into each other’s mouths as she sinks down until he fills her completely.

At first, it’s more of a grind, slowly moving against each other with as little space as possible between the two, just eager to feel their bodies against each other. He drinks in her pleased sighs, and lets out more than a few of his own as she tugs on his earlobe with her teeth or strokes her hand along his chest. For his part he touches as much of her skin as he can, even as he thinks he’ll never get enough.

As he kisses her throat and teases a nipple, her breath speeds up, and suddenly the pace becomes more urgent, and he can feel the coil of pleasure tighten at the base of his spine. But he needs to get her there first, needs to see again the way her face looks in pleasure, wants to feel her warm and wet and tight around him, hear the way she sounds as she comes with him inside her.

He strokes his hand down her torso until he can brush his thumb along her clit, and then stares in rapt attention as she shakes apart above him. He works her through it before finally he’s gasping out her name, his face twisting in pleasure, before his hips still beneath her.

She collapses against his chest, and he can feel her heart beating rapidly, mirroring his own. As they catch their breath, he strokes his hand along her spine, reveling in the afterglow and the sweet kisses she dots along his chest and collarbone.

His heart aches, but in the best of ways.

“We need to go get cleaned up,” he mumbles, dazed and tired, but deliriously happy.

She just hums, and he can feel her nuzzle sleepily at his neck. “I don’t wanna get up.”

“Sooner we get up, sooner we can return to cuddling?”

That gets her to lift her head, and they stagger out of bed together.

Within minutes, a sun-sleepy Bee is trotting back indoors to enjoy some food and dog toys set out for him in the living room, while he and Rey make their way back to her bedroom. The sun may still be up in the late afternoon sky, but he lays back in bed, and Rey slips in beside him, snuggling up to him as she rests her head against his chest.

He presses a kiss to the crown of her head and she lets out a sleepy sigh. And, as he drops off to sleep, Rey curled up sweetly in his arms, he can’t help but think about how much he loves her, how much he adores her, and how much she’s changed his life for the better since he wandered into her diner one overcast evening.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy sinful Sunday! Once again we earn that E rating. It's a pretty good chunk of the chapter where they're in the kitchen, but if you want to skip the smut, skip the part that starts with "He might have issued his own challenge earlier with the kiss" and pick back up at the start of the third section, which starts with "Later, with their bellies sated."
> 
> Otherwise, the rest of the chapter is just unabashed fluff, cause we all need more fluff in our lives. I hope you enjoy!

Rey’s curled up into Poe’s side, the Great British Bake Off playing on the television, which honestly, she’s only watching off and on.

No, instead she finds herself watching Poe more often than not, the myriad expressions crossing his face and the quirks of his ever-expressive eyebrows, as he watches the show and gives commentary on the contestants and their bakes, or even critiquing some of the commentary.

(“Was that really necessary, Paul?” she hears him ask more than once. She knows Poe finds some of his remarks—or curt eyebrow raises—more than a little cutting. It’s not surprising, really. Poe’s the sappy, sentimental type. She’s seen him tear up from the contestant’s stories more than once. It’s one of the many, many reasons she loves him so much.

Although even after six months of dating, she seems to always be finding new reasons to love him.)

Granted, she also likes watching Poe for other reasons too. She likes that sharp jawline, those warm brown eyes with the eyelashes that seem to go on for miles, the plush, red lips.

Then there’s the way he feels as she traces her fingers over his pectoral muscles and the movement of his chest as she watches him breathe. She particularly enjoys sliding her hand under his shirt to feel his soft skin beneath hers and his warm belly thawing out her perpetually cold hands (though, to be fair, he seems to like that a bit less, at least until her hands warm up). And nothing beats cuddling into him to enjoy his warmth, feeling his arm tug her closer, his fingers gently stroking the skin of her arm.

So, really, she can’t be bothered to watch the show right now anyway . . . and especially not when there’s an extra key resting next to her own that she plans to give him over dinner. Six months might be considered too soon by some, but considering how early they had exchanged I love you’s, and the fact that he spends more and more time at her place now, his Chernow books and Dungeons and Dragons materials beside her own (and more than a few books on the topic. She’s a board game connoisseur, but she had _no idea_ how deep the D&D fandom went) she feels good about the decision.

She briefly looks away from Poe, but only to eye an empty space of wall. With their school materials, and the fact they both were prolific readers, she’s been considering putting up yet another bookshelf in her house. She keeps tripping over piles of books and bookbags, and now with another dog around, they need to clean up a bit around here.

She nuzzles against his collarbone, trying to hide her smile at the thought of their things being mingled together and this being _their_ place, since she’s certain he’ll accept, but Poe picks up on it anyway.

“What is it?” he asks, as his fingers stroke through her hair.

She shakes her head, because she has a plan, and she doesn’t want to ruin it.

But then she sees Bee trot to the back door, with Dio, her little foster dachshund that she had just formally adopted, who was once shy and skittish and now . . . well, a little less so, hot on the heels of his new best friend.

She rolls over Poe to get up off the couch. “I’ll let them out.”

She grins when he playfully calls out, “Hurry back.”

The second she opens the door, Bee and Dio scamper out. But as she stands in the kitchen, an idea springs to mind.

“Hey Poe,” she calls out, glancing over her shoulder at the man still stretched out on the couch. She had plans, and while she doesn’t exactly want to scrap them just yet, she’s never been all that great at tamping down on her eagerness. Plus, the sooner the plan is put into action, the sooner the . . . celebration can begin.

Plus, honestly she’s still a little worked up from her perusal of Poe on the couch just moments before.

“Yeah?” he asks, that soft smile on his face once more before it morphs into a pout. “Wait, why are you still all the way over there? Come back,” he pleads, as he stretches out a hand towards her.

And while his pout is certainly tempting, a force of nature she can never deny—even if she wanted to, which she really, really doesn’t—she’s too intent on her idea to do anything else but proceed forward with it. “Remember when you first asked me out.”

He grins. “You mean, when _you_ first asked _me_ out?”

She rolls her eyes playfully. “Let’s call it a mutual asking out.”

“I remember. I remember very well. You wanted to include me in your dessert selection,” he teases, with a lascivious wink. “Though that doesn’t explain why you’re all the way over there.” The pout returns, even more exaggerated this time.

Christ, she really wants to go over there, but . . .

“I had been wondering if you wanted to help me out in the kitchen, maybe be my taste tester. Since we’ve been watching Bake Off, you know, inspiration hit . . .”

“Of course,” he says, smiling as he sits up on the couch and stretches his back out, a sliver of skin at his waist being exposed as his shirt rides up. She tries not to pout when he stands and the shirt slides back into place, covering up that bit of golden skin. “What recipes you got in mind today? Your sous chef is ready and awaiting your orders.”

As he walks by (and as she makes sure to get an eyeful of that ass), she looks forward to quite an enjoyable activity.

* * *

_Christ, she needs to get him back into the kitchen, sooner rather than later._

To be fair, he has been extraordinarily helpful, even if she’s been trying her level best to distract him.

It was just supposed to be a few different types of cookies. But he looked so serious in measuring out the ingredients exactly, his pink tongue poking out slightly between his lips. And then there was the way his hands moved with such finesse as he chopped the walnuts, the knife gripped elegantly between those fingers she knew very, _very_ well.

It’s a very enticing look on him. Even if it hadn’t been part of what she’s now calling her newly improved plan in the first place, she wouldn’t have even tried to resist.

As he tosses the dry ingredients into the bowl, she can’t help but slide her arms around him from behind and kissing the sensitive skin just beneath his ear. She can feel the shiver run through him as she rests her head on his shoulder.

“Trying to distract me? I thought you wanted my help,” he teases, as he strokes her forearm with his fingertips.

She grins, pressing a kiss to his shoulder through his shirt. “And I was just trying to say thank you for all your help.” She lets her hand stroke his belly, before nosing the collar of his t-shirt out of the way.

Then she bites down.

It’s not a hard bite by any means, but it causes him to jump a little and release a rough exhalation of breath. It’s probably not helped by the hand that’s now at the hem of his shirt either.

Before she can pull away, he turns slightly to cup her jaw in his large hand, fingers just barely teasing at the nape of her neck, and pulls her in for a heated kiss. It’s a bit of an awkward angle with her still standing behind him, but he’s able to deepen it immediately, a tongue stroking at her lower lip before slipping inside to play with her own.

Then he pulls away, his eyes dark and hooded, but a playful grin pulling at the edges of his lips. “We should get these ingredients mixed together.”

_Challenge accepted_ , she thinks.

But before she could grab a mixer, he starts stirring the ingredients together by hand, his forearms exposed to her hungry gaze, his biceps flexing under the sleeves of his shirt, and . . .

This was a _brilliant_ idea.

She briefly wonders what he would look like kneading dough.

She can’t help but tease him as he mixes in the flour, small increments at a time, or take advantage of the time available to her. She strokes fingertips along his chest and arms and jaw, kisses the column of his throat, presses herself up against his back again as he measures out spoonfuls of the mixture onto the cookie sheet.

He might have issued his own challenge earlier with the kiss, but with the way the material of his pants is obviously tented now, she thinks she’s won the game, and her mind crows with delight.

But then he slides the cookies into the oven, starts the timer, and whirls around, pulling her to him and kissing her so fully, so deeply, she’s seeing stars.

Before she knows it, her tank top is halfway across the room, Poe throwing it away from him as if it had personally offended him, her shorts and underwear lay discarded next to her, and she only has half a moment to worry about his knees on her hard kitchen floor, before she’s gasping.

“You’re dripping already,” he practically purrs as his tongue begins working her. “Is this all from teasing me?”

She can only gasp out his name, her hips tilting forward as his fingers join in with his mouth.

He laughs, the sound reverberating through her and causing her to shiver even as her hands dive into his hair, her hips rolling from his mouth’s talented ministrations.

“And all the while I was just trying to help you out in the kitchen. Maybe I should make you wait for it then.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she retorts, but it’s far too breathy to be any sort of threat, even if this wasn’t a game they had played many times before. But she’s already so close to the edge, and she’s tensing, wanting nothing more than to come.

Maybe she wasn’t the one to win the game as she had thought.

But Poe just grins up at her from beneath hooded eyes and shrugs. “You’re right.”

And then his mouth is back on her, sucking her clit into his mouth, and she’s shaking apart, hands clutching at his hair as if it was the only thing keeping her standing.

She reaches down until she can curl her fists into his shirt, pulling him up to her. Her hands scrabble at his belt as he whips his own shirt off, his hair only getting more disheveled as it makes its way over his head.

It’s a good look on him, but not quite as good as when he has that wicked glint in his eyes and asks, “Think I can make you come again before the timer goes off?”

“I’d like to see you try.” She knows that both of them are . . . a bit competitive, and there’s nothing like a little friendly competition to get the blood pumping.

Not that either of them needed any additional incentive to get the blood pumping right now though. She sees that heady look in his eyes, and knows it’s mirrored in her own.

“You’re on.” And then with a wicked smirk, he says, “Turn around.”

She turns, quickly complying, to lean over the counter. She doesn’t even notice the cool tile beneath her breasts, because his fingers are once again at her cunt, as if he hadn’t just made her come beneath his fingers and that wicked mouth of his, as if she hadn’t already been dripping.

“C’mon, Poe, what are you waiting for?” she asks, as she presses her hips back toward him.

She feels him drape himself over her and press a kiss to the base of her neck, and then—

“Oh god,” she moans, as he slips inside of her. That mouth of his is still pressed to her, his warm breath of exhalation teasing delightfully at her skin, and she can feel him smile as he waits so patiently for her to adjust, but she’s ready for him, has been ready. “Please move. Please.”

And then he does, his strong hands gripping her waist, fingertips pressing into her skin, as he fucks into her quickly, drawing gasps from them both. It’s delicious, the way she can feel him thrusting inside of her, one of his hands keeping a grip on her hips as the other smooths over her back before sliding around to her breast and rolling a nipple with his thumb.

Sometime in between his moans of pleasure, or the way he tells her she _feels so good, so perfect_ around him, he slips that hand down to her clit, and without any warning, she clenches around him, his name escaping from her lips.

He follows soon after, and she delights in the way he says her name, deep and raspy and breathy with pleasure.

She’ll never grow tired of that sound.

She’s boneless with her pleasure, and she stays slumped on the counter for a long moment. She can’t really be bothered to move, not with the way Poe is draped over her still, a hand gently stroking up and down her side, as he presses soft kisses to her hair, her cheek, her shoulder.

“I love you,” he murmurs.

She smiles, slow and sweet. She thought the sound of her name on his lips as he came moments ago was the most perfect thing she had ever heard, but she realizes it would never hold a candle to this. Nothing could compare.

“I love you too,” she murmurs back, dragging one of his hands up to her lips to press a kiss to it.

Then they both jump as the timer goes off, both of them a little too dazed to immediately know what was going on. But then they’re both giggling as they stumble for the oven to take the cookies out, exchanging amused glances with each other out of the corner of their eyes the whole time as they get them on the cooling rack.

Once that’s done, they hurry off to clean up.

She’s just about to slip back into her clothes when Poe’s grasping her hips and pulling her close. “Another round?” he asks, as he captures her lips with his own.

Then her stomach growls.

It’s certainly not helped by the sweet scent of the cookies cooling in the kitchen, or the thoughts of dinner that had been running through her head all day (though, to be honest, food is a thought that is often on her mind.)

Poe laughs, pressing another kiss to her lips before nuzzling further down as he talks, voice getting raspier as he kisses along her throat. “How about we order take out? Thai? We can get those noodles you love so much. And I’m sure we can find some way to while away the time waiting for it to arrive.”

That sounds perfect. But she had plans.

Then again, as his fingers trip their way down her torso, she finds that she likes his plans better.

Even if it takes her about three times as long to order take out on her phone while his fingers cause her to tremble with pleasure.

* * *

Later, with their bellies sated—both of them sated in every way really, and once again wrapped in blankets and curled up on the couch together, two sleepy dogs dozing at their feet—that she realizes this moment is so much better than any plans she could have made.

Dinner can happen anytime. But having Poe here with her in a moment like this . . . that’s what really matters.

So, despite his grumbles of protest, she jumps off the couch, their blanket still clutched tight around her, as she runs to the table that holds her—their—keys.

His hands immediately pull her to him once she finds her way back to him and snuggles in close.

“Can’t just leave a guy without warning like that,” he grumbles, pressing a kiss to her lips.

He tastes like sugar and chocolate and Poe. Like everything good.

She smiles into the kiss before pulling back, and asks, “Do you want to move in with me?”

She can’t help but be blunt. She’s never hurtful about it, but she’s always been forthright.

She wonders if she should feel more nervous about this. But she finds with Poe around, she’s never really scared of anything.

Then again, with the way the smile blooms on his face, bold and bright, as he cups her face in his hands and kisses her soundly, it seems she really had no reason to be worried anyway.

“Yes,” he says, and then they’re tumbling back onto the couch, once more lost in each other.


End file.
